Sk8er Boi

Give

That hurt.

I guess I should've istened to my dad when he told me to wear a helmet.

"What the hell!" the new voice was the person I'd collided with, I got to my feet.

"okay, skater boy, you just made a very, very powerful enemy." it was a boy, probably the same age as me. The thing that stood out to me was his hair, frosted tips. I thought they were so wicked, I wanted them back in the ninth grade but my mom said no, even though Art had some in the ninth grade.  This boy had the perfect hair for frosted tips, he looked great, almost better than great, maybe he even looked kind of ho-

"Are you deaf or something? A-are you blind, tell me now because that won't happen again, a-and if you are blind or deaf then you have to legally tell me or el-"

"I'm not deaf" I scoffed "or blind, you were just in the way."

The boys face contorted into what I could only assume was rage.
"that's it," He sputtered. He stepped closer to me, our noses so close to touching, I didn't know if my breath hitches because I had a weird attraction to him already or if it was because I was gearing up to break his nose. "I would usually let you off because it's the first day and all," I raised a brow, this must be a joke but he kept talking
"I just don't like you, so you, me, Friday, skater boy, after school, only time I can fit new clients in."
I rolled my eyes, this kid was for sure psycho, whoever bred this kind of manic must be a basket case themselves, kind of reminded me of my own mother.

He had a smug smile. I guess I'd been silent for too long again.

"I'll be there, frosted tips."

The smile dropped. I walked into the school, not fully knowing where I was going, I just couldn't be in the dudes presence anymore.

Mondays really, really sucked.

It was then I realized I still had a full day of high school to get to.

The day droned on.

Hell the whole week droned on.

I had seen frosted tips a total on one time, I didn't think he'd seen me though. He was cute, but I think whenever he'd open his mouth it'd ruin it.

It was Thursday night and me and my family were at the dinner table.

"James, son, how about you give grace tonight." I didn't know I had to hate Thursdays too. I hated saying grace, I hated having to say thanks to a dude I didn't even know, a dude who'd probably hate me.

We all held hands, I couldn't help but be disturbed by brown substance on Elaine's hands, I was hoping it was dirt. Also, Art had some dry hands for someone who owns fifty different types of lotions.

"Um, lord thank you for blessing us with this food," I looked to my dad, he motioned for me to continue, I sighed
"a-and for a home? Yeah, and for my skateboard, my bunk bed so I don't have to share a bed with Art- ouch!"

I rubbed my shin under the table.

"Boys." My dad scolded "finish it , J."

"and thank you for my family, amen."

"Dad, I think James needs another lesson in giving grace." Art is the worst, almost worse than frosted tips and I've only had one encounter with him. Still both Art and frosted tips are on my list of people who will rue the day, along with my mom and her new husband.

"Well, dad, I think James needs a lesson in how to stop kissing so much ass."

My dad's fork clanked on his plate.

"James, no swearing at the table."

"Art kisses ass!" Elaine cheered.

My dad sighed. Then he started laughing. Elaine joined then me, finally, hard-ass, Art joined. 

Dinner was pretty good.